


The Battle for Windhelm

by MeridianPurified



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Skyrim Civil War, Windhelm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22601542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeridianPurified/pseuds/MeridianPurified
Summary: Yolskja and the Legion siege Windhelm to end the civil war and the Stormcloaks
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

The battle of Windhelm had been raging now for hours. Bodies of both Stormcloaks and Imperials lined the streets and the snow ran red with blood, ash and cinders rose into the sky as a red dragon circled the city. He had been razing the mortals in the blue armour all day.

Yolskja looked up at Odahviing, she had called the dragon just before the battle had started and he had been instrumental in beating back the Stormcloaks, his dragon fire had razed whole squadrons of Stormcloak soldiers.

Yolskja drew her attention from the sky to the doors to the Palace of Kings. The Stormcloaks had locked and barred the doors to prevent the Imperials from gaining access the palace interior, and not even the siege equipment of the Imperials could breach them.

“Yolskja!” General Tulius called her over. “We can’t breach these doors, any ideas?”

Yolskja rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Well, I do have one idea…”

She had Tulius clear the courtyard and she beckoned Odahviing to land.

“Yes, Dovahkiin, what is it you require of me?” Odahviing asked.

Yolskja pointed at the doors. “Can you see if you can get those open for me?”

“Griik aan mal heyv.” Odahviing dipped his head. “I will try.”

The dragon reared up and slammed his body weight against the doors. They shook from the impact and Yolskja grinned. “Keep going, Odahviing! We can get those doors down in no time!”

“General Tulius, are we sure this will work, I mean, that’s a dragon for Divines sake!” An Imperial soldier whispered into Tulius’ ear.

“Have a little faith in your Legate, soldier. She’ll get us through those doors.” General Tulius glanced at Yolskja, who was cheering Odahviing on as he tore down the doors.

“She’s having fun.” Rikke observed as Yolskja leapt up and down as the doors came crashing down.

Yolskja reached up and rubbed Odahviing’s muzzle. “Excellent work.”

Yolskja took out her mace and readied her shield, stepping over the flattened door. Only four Stormcloak soldiers remained, beyond them stood Galmar and behind him, sat on his throne was Ulfric Stormcloak.

Yolskja slung her mace over her shoulder and placed her other hand on her hip. “Steel yourselves, boys. Sovengarde awaits.” She gave them all a cocky grin.

The four Stormcloak foot soldiers looked between each other and back to their leaders before back to Yolskja, reasoning that there was only one of her and four of them.

They descended on her at the same time, but Yolskja had a trick up her sleeve.

“Tiid klo ul!”

Yolskja drew her dagger, the Stormcloaks around her almost completely still in the effect of her slowed time.

To the naked eye it would’ve looked like the foot soldiers had gone from attacking Yolskja to dead in an instant, but in reality Yolskja had killed them all in her slowed time, and now only Galmar and Ulfric remained.

Ulfric sat on his throne, looking as downtrodden as the Dunmer and Argonians that had suffered under him. Galmar however still looked ready to fight. “Damn Imperials.” The old man growled. “And you, bitch.” He pointed an accusing finger at Yolskja. “You pretended to be our ally! A guard in our city! You’re the Dragonborn, yet you turn your back on your kinsmen!”

“I would never call someone like you my kinsman!” Yolskja snapped. “I’m more kin to those Dunmer you keep in that damned slum than I am to any of you!”

By this time Tulius and Rikke had entered the palace, the rest of the legion holding position outside of the palace doors.

“Ulfric!” Tulius yelled. “It’s over! Call of whatever forces you have left and surrender!”

“Surrender?” Ulfric swung his head around to face the aggressors. “And surrender Skyrim to hands of a dying empire?”

“Skyrim doesn’t belong to you, Ulfric!” Rikke tried to reason with him.

“No…” Ulfric replied solemnly. “But I belong to her.”

“Enough talk!” Galmar readied his warhammer. “You haven’t won while I’m still breathing!”

Yolskja stepped forward. “Then let me rectify that.”

A tense silence swept the throne room, Ulfric rose to his feet and drew his axe. Tulius and Rikke advanced on the last two fighters, Imperial swords drawn. Galmar’s hands gripped his warhammer tightly, and Yolskja raised her shield.

At first no one wanted to move, and it seemed they had reached a stalemate, then Yolskja took a small step forwards, before running at Galmar.

Galmar raised his warhammer and went to bring it down on Yolskja, but she raised her shield and surged upwards to meet his blow. The force of the shield and warhammer colliding sent Galmar stumbling from the recoil, and he couldn’t raise his hammer in time before Yolskja was upon him.

She swung her mace into his side and she heard his ribs crack from the impact. Galmar growled and stumbled back, holding his side. “Damn you… You’re nothing but Imperial bitch!”

Yolskja took the time to look past him to see Rikke and Tulius locked in combat with Ulfric. “After I kill you.” Yolskja said coolly. “I’m going to kill your precious leader next.”

“You won’t kill me.” Galmar rose to his feet, gripping his warhammer tighter and rising, despite the pain in his side. “Ulfric!”

Ulfric looked up from his fight and kicked Tulius away, turning his attention to Galmar and Yolskja. “Zun haal viik!”

His shout ripped across the throneroom and towards Yolskja. She braced herself as the shout reached her. Her mace was ripped from her hand and sent flying, but she managed to cling to her shield, stumbling back from the force of the shout.

Galmar took advantage of this and swung his hammer at her. Yolskja managed to raise her shield in time but the force of the hammer swings brought her down to the ground, and Galmar’s final swing sent her sprawling.

“Now you’ll die, traitor.” Galmar raised his hammer above his head and went to bring it down on Yolskja’s chest.

Yolskja raised her shield one final time and when Galmar brought the warhammer down she wrapped her legs around his right arm, locking it in place and pushing her boot up against his chin.

Galmar growled in frustration and tried to yank his hammer back, but Yolskja’s hold was firm. She drew her ebony dagger from her belt and started to stab Galmar’s wrist repeatedly.

Galmar roared in pain and rage as Yolskja twisted the dagger through his wrist and repeatedly kicked him in the chin.

As Galmar started to stumble she pulled her dagger from his wrist and with both feet, kicked him in the face.

Galmar fell backwards and Yolskja wasted no time getting to her feet and attacking Galmar.

She kicked him in the face as he tried to get up and straddled him. One hand firmly wrapped around his throat and the other holding her dagger high above her.

She brought her dagger down into Galmar’s eye, all the way down to the hilt and twisting it for good measure.

Galmar let out his death rattle and Yolskja yanked her blade from his eye socket. She stood up and turned to Ulfric, who despite still fighting Tulius and Rikke, had moved his attention to her.

“Fus ro dah!” Ulfric roared. His shout of unrelenting force sent Rikke and Tulius flying across the throne room, they landed on the other side with a thud, and then it was just Yolskja and Ulfric.

“Galmar was right. You are a traitor. To your Stormcloak brothers and sisters! To your kinsmen! To all of Skyrim!” Ulfric clenched his fists.

“Your words cut deep, Ulfric.” Yolskja clasped a hand over her heart mockingly. “But not as deep as I’m going to cut into you.”

Ulfric raised his axe. “Victory, or Sovengarde!”

Yolskja rolled her eyes. “How many times have I heard that today?”

Ulfric let out a battle cry and ran at Yolskja. Yolskja glanced over her shoulder, her shield and mace were too far away for her to grab before Ulfric would he upon her.

She looked down at her dagger and gripped it tighter. This would have to do.

Fortunately Yolskja was a lot more agile than Ulfric, when he went to bring his axe down upon her she dodged to his right side. She grabbed his wrist and plunged her dagger into his upper arm, twisting it back in forth. Ulfric roared in pain and rage and struck Yolskja with his free hand, sending her sprawling backwards.

Ulfric pulled the dagger out of his arm and dropped it. “We could’ve won, Dragonborn! We could’ve driven the Imperials out of Skyrim and restored her to greatness!”

Yolskja struggled to her feet, fatigue setting in. “At what cost? The safety, the lives of every elf, Argonian and Khajiit in the province? You only care about other Nords!”

“Skyrim belongs to the Nords!” Ulfric shouted.

“And before it "belonged to the Nords” it belonged to the Snow Elves. No one owns Skyrim, least of all you.“ Yolskja eyed her dagger.

"You wouldn’t understand. You’re not a true Nord, you never were.” Ulfric grit his teeth. “Once I kill you I’ll kill those two.” He looked at the unconscious Rikke and Tulius. “And the Empire will flee in terror!” He looked back to Yolskja, to find her missing from where she had been standing.

“Wha-” Ulfric stated.

“Oh?” Yolskja said from behind him, gripping her dagger. “You’re betting your life on that?”

Ulfric whipped around. Yolskja could see him drawing breath, he was going to use the Thu'um, she could tell, but she had no idea what shout, the only safe thing for her to do would be to create distance.

“Fus ro dah!”

“Fus ro dah!”

Both combatants were sent flying by the other’s shout. Yolskja crashed into the dining table into the middle of the room and Ulfric hit his throne, slumping down into it.

Yolskja took her chance. Shaking away any dizziness she stood up and ran at Ulfric. She jumped at him, brandishing her dagger.

Ulfric managed to grab her right arm before she could sink her dagger into him. He grunted from the effort, Yolskja’s murderous intent was overpowering him.

Yolskja grit her teeth as she slowly forced the dagger downwards. The tip just about pressing against Ulfric’s chest. “Just… Die!” She growled.

She shoved her weight down onto the dagger and the blade stabbed into Ulfric’s chest.

Ulfric let out a cry and gripped her wrists tighter. Yolskja reared her head back and head butted Ulfric as hard as she could, his head knocked against the back of the stone throne and the stun he received was enough to stab the full blade of the dagger into him. She slammed her palm against the bottom of the hilt for good measure before letting go of the dagger and falling backwards from the throne.

Yolskja panted heavily, propping herself up on one arm as she looked up at Ulfric. “That’s in your heart, I’m guessing.” She forced herself up onto one knee. “Take that out and you’ll be dead.”

Yolskja looked up as a Tulius offered a hand to help her up. He was rubbing his head slightly as if he had just come to, she took his hand and hauled herself to her feet.

“Let her do it.” Ulfric said, clutching his chest. “Let the Dragonborn kill me, it’ll be a better story.”

Yolskja and Tulius exchanged glances and Tulius sighed heavily. “Song or not I just want it done.”

“I’ll gladly kill him.” She stepped forwards. Yolskja drew in a deep breath.

“Yol toor shul!”

The flames of Yolskja’s fire breath consumed Ulfric and the blaze didn’t stop coming from Yolskja’s mouth. The power and ferocity of the flames made Tulius shield his eyes from the light. Yolskja’s hair glowed brightly, as it normally did when she shouted, but that glow was almost blinding now.

Ulfric’s screams were quickly drowned out by the roar of the flames. His body, his armour, his clothes were all a mixture of incinerated and melted. Some of his remains were melted to throne, and only then did Yolskja let up her fire breath.

She clutched her head and stumbled backwards, Tulius caught her and helped her stand.

“Gods…” She muttered. “Well, now that’s over.”

Tulius nodded. “Quite a show, Dragonborn. Come on, let’s go tell the men.”

Yolskja took a moment to spit at the foot of the throne, before nodding and following Tulius out of the palace.


	2. Yolskja's Day Off

Yolskja walked down the stairs of her home, Hjerim. It had been 3 days since the Civil War had ended with her killing Galmar and Ulfric. The Legion had taken control and were quelling any small scale revolts from the remaining Stormcloak supporters and Yolskja had retired from the military, she had only wanted to see Ulfric gone.

She considered this her “day off”. Off from all the war, questing, prophecies and assassinations, today was a day just to herself, and she was going to make the most of it.

She stretched as she reached the bottom of the stairs, still sore from the fighting and wandered into her kitchen. She grabbed her teapot and set it over the fire pit.

“Yol.” She muttered, a small jet of fire struck the pit and lit the logs. She filled her teapot with water and set it over the fire, she then opened up one of her cupboards and took out a pot of tea leaves, dropping a few into the water and stirring them around.

Sometimes slow and peaceful mornings suited Yolskja better. She was the Dragonborn, she was an assassin, and sometimes she’d wake up with another person in her bed, but she always made time for relaxing to take care of herself.

She picked up a letter from Tulius she had only half read before leaving on the counter the day before and finished reading it. He thanked her for her help in defeating the Ulfric, called her imperative to the war effort. Very flattering, Yolskja thought, no doubt he was trying to flatter her back into the Legion. But she had made up her mind, and the life of a solider wasn’t for her.

Over the sound of the water boiling she heard a knock on the door. She put down the letter and went to answer it.

Outside stood a courier. “I’m looking for a Yolskja Dark-Wolf?” He asked

Since Yolskja hadn’t expected any company or visitors she was still wearing the civilian clothing she had slept in and her hair remained unkempt and messy from where she hadn’t brushed it, far from the noble and strong Dragonborn Windhelm had seen just days earlier.

“Yeah that’s me.” Yolskja replied.

“I’ve got a letter for you, from Jarl Elisif.” The courier produced a letter sealed with wax and stamped in the appearance of the wolf that adorned Solitude’s banners.

“The Jarl Elisif?” Yolskja asked, taking the letter.

“Jarl Elisif of Solitude yes.” The courier nodded. “Have a good day.” He added, walking away.

Yolskja shrugged and closed the door. She put the letter on her table and finished making her tea before sitting down and reading the letter she had been sent.

_To Yolskja Dark-Wolf_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health, and that your battle in Windhelm has left not left you worse for wear._

Yolskja sipped her tea as she read.

_I, Jarl Elisif cordially invite you to Solitude to personally thank you for your efforts in stopping the Stormcloak Rebellion, as I have heard you were instrumental in helping the Legion._

“Everyone’s so flattering nowadays…” Yolskja remarked as she read.

_Please respond, or arrive at the Blue Palace at your earliest convenience and you will be welcomed by my court and myself as a hero, to Solitude and all of Skyrim._

_Yours faithfully,_

_\- Jarl Elisif the Fair of Solitude._

Yolskja raised an eyebrow as she finished reading. “Hero of Solitude, huh?” She put down her mug. “I’ve never even been there outside of Legion business…”

Yolskja knew that it would be stupid to not heed the summons of the soon to be High Queen and decided that she would answer them, just not today. Today was her day off.


End file.
